


Voices in the Night

by myrthrilmercury



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Open Relationships, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrthrilmercury/pseuds/myrthrilmercury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masturbation doesn't always cut it. Sometimes, you need a little help.</p><p>Response to an anonymous Tumblr ask by a reader of "Slow Burn."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I received an anonymous Tumblr ask from a reader of "Slow Burn" who wanted me to write out a phone sex session between Yngwie and Mike. This is the result.
> 
> Also: while my aunt's name is not Vivian, that actually _is_ her all-time favorite movie. Yes, she's as crazy as she sounds.

_“Surely, whoever speaks to me in the right voice, him or her, I shall follow.” –Madonna, “Sanctuary”_

***

2:30 AM.

Mike should have been in bed long ago. Instead, he was slumped over his laptop mindlessly shuffling through porn sites. It was more of an automatic reflex now, since nothing could hold his attention for longer than two minutes at this point. Sure, it was called a laptop, but actually putting it there wasn’t that great of an idea. The jumpsuit had long been discarded in favor of a pair of grey cotton shorts, which made the heat of the machine all that more uncomfortable against the skin of his legs.

That, and there was also the fact that he was hard enough to pound nails through a brick wall at this point. 

Sighing in frustration, Mike put the laptop down on the floor and climbed onto the bed to retrieve his phone. He had already tried calling Yngwie five times earlier that night, but maybe this time he would pick up.

Four rings. Straight to voicemail.

With an aggravated grunt, Mike chucked the phone across the room and got up to reconfirm that the door was locked. It was already bad enough that the Vaseline Fairy was coming by for another visit, but the last thing he needed was an interruption.

He hadn’t even made it to the door when the phone began to vibrate. 

Mike climbed over all the paraphernalia scattered across the floor and picked up the phone. He didn’t even need to look at the display to know who it was.

“Hey.” Mike headed back to the bed and let himself fall backwards onto the mattress. “I hadn’t heard from you all day.”

“Persistent, aren’t we?” Yngwie chuckled before shuffling around in the background. “You just had to catch me while I was in the bathroom. I was going to bed in a few minutes.”

“I suppose I was, too.” 

“What have you been up to?”

Mike took a deep breath and tried to slow down his heart rate. Sure, it had been a couple of weeks since they had last spoken, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk. “More of the same. Had another movie today. At least this one wasn’t too bad compared to some of the others I’ve seen.”

“What was it?”

“ _The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T._ That’ll give me nightmares.”

Yngwie laughed. “There’s a title I haven’t heard in years. Believe it or not, that was my Aunt Vivian’s favorite movie.”

“What in the actual fuck?” Mike was pretty sure that Yngwie could hear the gawk on his face from that comment.

“Yeah, I know. She always was weird. Are the ‘bots giving you much trouble?”

“They only set off the fire alarm three times today. I consider that a major improvement."

Yngwie suppressed a laugh on the other end. “I’m surprised you’re still up.”

“I was hoping you’d be.”

“Really, now?” There was a hint of rising interest in Yngwie’s voice. “So what are you doing calling me so late at night?”

Finally, Mike could cut to the chase. “You know goddamned well why I called you,” he snarled through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I see how it is. You need to get off.”

“…Yeah.” Mike admitted after a brief pause.

“And you called me in the middle of the night. You need _me_ to get you off.” Yngwie lowered his voice, switching to that husky tone that never failed to get Mike’s heart racing. “Because you know nobody else knows how incredibly fucking filthy you are, dirty boy.”

The only response from Mike was a sharp intake of breath before Yngwie spoke again. 

“You hard right now?” 

“Yeah.”

“I want you to grab your cock for me. Don’t move your hand, just leave it there. Tell me how hard you are.”

Mike slid his right hand underneath the waistband of his shorts and wrapped his fingers around his cock, gasping at the sudden pressure. He desperately wanted to do something else with his hand as well, but obediently left it in place.

“Mmm, you _are_ hard,” Yngwie purred approvingly. “Picture it as my hand. Just think of how I’d do it if I were there.”

Well, _that_ wasn’t very difficult. Yngwie somehow had all of Mike’s triggers memorized, and knew exactly how he wanted to be touched: firmly with long pulls, moving up and down as the sweet spot gradually undulated, and increasingly rapid, eventually rubbing the entire length. Sometimes, just to tease, Yngwie would open his hand a little, pushing the thumb up towards the head while dragging the other fingers down, which never failed to make Mike jump.

Imagining Yngwie’s grip was the easy part. Remaining motionless was much harder.

“Keep your hand there,” Yngwie instructed, “and the phone close to you. Stick the fingers from your other hand in your mouth. Let me hear you suck on them.”

This had to be one of the weirdest things someone had ever asked Mike to do, and yet, at this point, he wanted nothing more than to take orders. Yngwie was always pushing the boundaries a little more each time, and always seemed to know what Mike was willing to do—things he’d never considered or even thought of, but was perfectly willing to accept without question.

Mike figured he must have been doing something right, as Yngwie’s voice began to break a bit when he spoke again. 

“God, I can just imagine how fucking sexy you look right now, with one hand on your cock and your fingers in your mouth. You’re so good at following orders. You like it when I tell you what to do?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Mike responded weakly.

“Good boy,” Yngwie purred, which elicited a low moan from Mike. Suddenly, there was a hint of interest in Yngwie’s voice. “Oh, you like it when I tell you what a good boy you are?”

Mike felt himself shudder, and removed his fingers from his mouth before grabbing the phone so it didn’t fall. “Yeah, I…really like it.”

“Good to know.” Mike could hear some movement on the other end of the line, and assumed it was Yngwie removing whatever he had been wearing. The voice on the other end then adopted a stern tone. “Did I tell you that you could stop?” 

Mike lay down on his back and placed the phone next to him before returning his fingers to his mouth and using the other hand to push down the shorts he had been wearing. Once they were down around his ankles, he kicked them off onto the floor; then resumed stroking himself.

“Yeah, let me hear it. I can just imagine how good that mouth will feel around my cock…” Whatever Yngwie had wanted to say next was interrupted by a groan. _“Fuck.”_

There was always that sense of achievement on top of lust whenever Yngwie came undone. Mike still didn’t have what he would consider any good ideas to approaching these calls, but it still pleased him to now that Yngwie got this way because of _him;_ that he was wanted, an object of desire instead of ridicule for a change.

“If I were there right now…” There was a ragged gasp before Yngwie spoke again. “If you looked down, you’d see my head between your legs. I’d tease you a little first, just dragging my face across your thighs a bit, biting them a little. You’d have your fingers tangled in my hair, pushing it out of the way so you could watch me. Don’t think I don’t know. You never push me down. You always keep your hand still.”

Mike whimpered at that last statement, not necessarily due to the sensations emanating from his own touch, but because the other man had once again figured him out before he had.

“Yeah, I know you, Mike. You want to see everything I do to you. You always look right at me, stare right into my eyes. I love it when you watch me, like you would be now, as I’d rub my mouth up and down your cock a bit. You always squirm whenever I do that.”

That was the exact response from Mike, along with a strangled groan.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You like it when I barely touch you, but you can still feel it. You move your hips towards me, and I always have to move back so it’s not over too soon. Then you finally start behaving, and I can just run my tongue over you a little bit. That’s right, just be a good boy for me.”

Mike wasn’t sure if he should regret his earlier admission to Yngwie or not, as it would definitely be used against him more and more in the future. Yngwie would use Mike’s innermost desires as a means of keeping him in line, and yet, Mike needed to be told what to do. If there wasn’t a protocol he was required to adhere to, not only would the outcome be far less enjoyable, but he wouldn’t get the attention he craved in return, or have the satisfaction of a job well done, to know that he was reaching towards perfection and coming close. 

“I’d just suck on the head a little…” Mike clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth when he heard Yngwie suck hard on his fingers. “That always drives you wild. Then I’d take you into my mouth, slide back and forth a bit, maybe ram down a couple of times…”

Mike moaned louder than he wanted to, and chastised himself to keep it down. The ‘bots didn’t need to hear anything.

“Oh, but I’m not letting you come yet. I have other plans for you.”

“Other…plans?” Mike repeated in a raspy voice.

“If I’m the one doing all the work here…” Yngwie was heaving now, vividly imagining what he was about to say. “I’m just going to fucking use you. Shove you down on your back, grab your shoulders, and just let your cock split me wide open as I fucking sit on it and ride you like a rented mustang, so hard I can barely walk tomorrow. Keep going until I tighten around you, shoot all over your chest and stomach, maybe even a little on your face…” There was a sharp intake of breath before a low moan. “Remind you who you belong to.”

They had never done anything like that before, but Mike couldn’t help but bite his lip to keep down the deep groan that accompanied the mental image and the surge of adrenaline from the verbalization of authority. It wasn’t the idea of being ridden, nor his own ministrations, which drove Mike wild, as much as the power Yngwie held over him. It pushed him closer to the edge of oblivion, the ultimate loss of control, and his overall voice changed to a tone he had never thought he was capable of.

“That’s it. Just like that.” 

Mike rolled over to one side and curled up towards his hand, feeling himself teetering on the edge, trying to find the right pace and grip for that final push off the cliff. 

“You’re such a good boy. Come for me, baby.”

Somehow, Mike managed to keep his guttural groaning down to a fairly acceptable level as he twitched rapidly, his hand and thighs becoming a hot, sticky mess in response to the encouragement on the other end of the line. When the throes subsided, he sank into the mattress, panting as he tried to catch his breath, despite still shaking a bit. 

“Yeah, that’s my good boy. You’re so good for me, doing everything I tell you to.” The catching in Yngwie’s voice indicated he wouldn’t be long either. “Oh God, I’m gonna—unh, _fuck_ —“

“Come on.” Mike never was very good at this, but felt that he should at least provide some sort of encouragement. “You made me come so hard already. Come for me.”

That was all it took for Yngwie to devolve into an eruption of alternating screaming, profanity, and panting as he finished himself. Yngwie had always been a screamer, but these particular cries made it sound almost like he was right there as Mike pressed his ear against the phone.

Mike remained silent for a few moments in order to give Yngwie time to come down. He wouldn’t be going to bed anytime soon after the sudden burst of adrenaline, but for the first time in several hours, there was a distinct sense of mental clarity.

Yngwie heaved one final, drawn-out gasp before speaking again. “God, I needed that.”

“And here I was the one calling you,” Mike stated with a grin. He’d heard all the horror stories about how long-distance relationships (if this could even be called one) lost their spark when the participants didn’t see each other for a while, but the thrill had not lessened since that night several months ago. Under their arrangement, Mike could have any man or woman he wanted, and yet, he always came back to Yngwie; not only for the companionship and mutual respect, but also the rapture and dominion that only he knew how to wield and extract.

“That’s what makes it so hot,” Yngwie replied with a hint of arousal still lingering in his voice. You hunted me down and took what you wanted. I fucking love that.” 

Mike’s only response was a low chuckle and a satisfied grin. The night had already been phenomenal, but the knowledge that he had enthralled and pleased Yngwie made it so much better.

“Well, now that you’re capable of talking…” Yngwie began. “How have you been?” He couldn’t help but crack up himself at the hysterical laughter the question prompted from Mike.

With their physical and psychological chess game out of the way, they were able to carry on a normal conversation over the next hour and a half, catching up on everything they had wanted to talk about over the past two weeks. Sure, Mike would totally regret it the next morning, but it wasn’t like he had to be up to watch a movie or do anything particularly important once all the other residents of the SOL were awake.

He had plenty of time.


End file.
